The Living and the Dead
by FrostedPurpleIrises91
Summary: The prophecy of Glorfindel had come to pass. The Witch-king of Angmar was not slain by a man but a woman in the guise of one. She had freed him from his bonds to Sauron but then he found himself bound to this shieldmaiden of Rohan and unable to accept his death just yet. Movie-centric, onesided pairing. Oneshot.


**Hello and thanks for even clicking on this thing! So, I've been pretty much a fan of LOTR for many years, mainly going through some on and off phases where I obsessed over it and then rediscovered it. Lately, I've been going through another one of those phases and I've actually been inspired to do a little oneshot. **

**Now I understand this pairing is a little odd and may not have many fans but I decided to give it a go anyway. Why exactly? Because Eowyn is my favorite female character and Witch-king is one of my favorite male characters. Not only that, I love the whole bad guy and good guy couplings and the vaguely Beauty and the Beast flair I added to this. I've read a few fanfics where the Witch-king has his final words/thoughts but I also wanted to do my own little take on his character, actions and expand on them a little. Both Witch-king and Eowyn are kinda OOC in this but that was intentional since I was imagining them in a hypothetical scenario. This is also a onesided romance too so you can probably guess right away who's going to be the scorned lover. Also, lemme know if I got anything wrong since I am still brushing up on my LOTR lore. I also welcome constructive criticism in my reviews and I promise I won't act all butthurt if someone points out something I missed or made a mistake somewhere. I'm not perfect! Anyway, without further ado, read on! Drop a review if it strikes ya fancy but most of all, please enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy. But I do own this little plot :3**

The Living and the Dead

Sometimes, life would throw twists into affairs that no one could ever foresee. Such twists could redeem or condemn. They would never even cross the minds of the wisest of wizards or the mightiest of kings. Most of the time, whatever insecurities and wandering thoughts would be cast aside and treated as sprouting paranoia. They would be branded as senseless nonsense and their probability would be underestimated. Then, in time, it would resurface in one way or another and it would be far too late to prepare for or even answer. Instead, all would be stunned…

_"I am no man."_

The leader of the Nazgûl had paid no heed to the brave Halfling who had plunged that Westernesse blade into him. The enchanted weapon had severed Sauron's grip on him and made him as vulnerable as any other mortal man. Painfully, the wound stung him and pain held him captive and immobile before the warrior whom he had assumed was a man. When she had removed her helmet, revealing her long, voluminous, blonde locks that cascaded down her shoulders, the Witch-king of Angmar had seen that the prophecy of Glorfindel was indeed to be fulfilled. There were no lies about that prediction. Indeed, he would be untouched by man. But he had been toppled by a Hobbit and a daughter of man.

Now, he knelt before this mortal woman. He was transfixed by this fierce warrior of Rohan. Anymore, it seemed that the pain from behind his knee dulled away to a mere afterthought as many realizations swamped him. This was, at long last, the end for him. No longer would he be enslaved to the Dark Lord. For the first time in many thousands of years, he would have peace. His days of inhabiting the borders of the realms of the living and the dead would cease.

His eyeless gaze could only stare back at the brave shield maiden. As soon as she took her helmet off, he saw that she was beautiful. Beauty, especially the comeliness of women, was a concept that had evaded him since Sauron claimed his humanity and poisoned his mind ages ago but now that he was freed of his malevolent influence, he knew of it once again. She was so selfless, bold, strong and beautiful…

Deep within his chest, an alien feeling stirred. The Witch-king was shocked by this sensation that welled up from within his unfeeling and shrouded shape. At first, he had no idea what was happening but then realized that he was somehow regaining some small piece of his mortal existence in his final moments. He had long forgotten his humanity but now that it was emerging once more, it felt comforting and relieving. There was a palpitation of sorts in the area of his chest where his heart once lain. Soothing warmth encompassed his dark form for as long as he gazed into her eyes and he became increasingly spellbound. This woman had to be a sorceress of sorts and he was almost convinced of it. Was she actually a Maiar who chose to fight him as a mortal and feign her true strength?

Even as she raised her sword to plunge it into his face, all the fallen Ringwraith could do was hold still. She was ignorant of the internal transformation he was undergoing. He would explain none of it to her. He would not implore her to spare him. Rightfully, she had defeated him and the Witch-king would not rob her of her privilege. Instead, he welcomed his death with open arms. He would prefer no other lovely creature to kill him.

"_If only you could look upon my face, young rider,"_ he thought to himself. He wished that he could extend this confession to her with his mind. _"You_ _would see a face filled with gratitude, peace and happiness. My heart also thanks you for you have made me feel alive one last time… Now, fulfill it."_

Then there was excruciating agony as the woman's blade had struck him. It was almost unbearable but that quickly subsided to nothing. Pain had metamorphosed to elation. Sauron's former slave felt true joy for the first time in the longest time. As of this moment, he would no longer have to answer to that great deceiver's beckoning. Once more, he would be his own man, even if he was deceased. As his regal helmet began to collapse in on itself, his gaze was still fixed on her. His body crumpled and withered yet his stare remained. The throbbing in his chest still persisted and it didn't wane which provided even more comfort for Witch-king as he ceased to be. His vision then darkened and a mere second later, he could no longer see his striking and youthful killer.

Not too long after Ếowyn had stabbed the mightiest of Sauron's servants, he at last succumbed. His dark robes flattened and his armor, gauntlets and helmet had clattered to the ground as if there was never a body inhabiting them. She had thought he would resist the final blow but he did not. Instead, all he did was focus his shadowed and invisible stare upon her. It disgusted her more than anything else. It turned her blood into slush for as long as she watched him peer back with an eyeless gaze. There was no face in there that she could see but whenever she had administered the deathblow, she could've sworn she saw…someone. It was a very brief flash of a face that appeared in her head for a fraction of a second before it subsided. Ếowyn could barely identify the main features of that façade but she knew it was a man.

It meant nothing to her though when she saw him perish at long last. She turned her back on the empty garb and shifted her attention on her mortally wounded lord and uncle, the king of Rohan. Out of the two kings who were in such close proximity to her, she far preferred Théoden to live and walk upon the Earth.

(April 30)

The death of her beloved uncle was hard enough for her to deal with despite her efforts in saving him from the Witch-king. She had grieved for him but she was comforted by the knowledge she had saved him from a far more terrible fate and avenged him. Ếowyn had prayed that this would be the last relative that she would lose for the rest of her life. Ếomer had survived the battle alongside her and she was at least thankful that her brother had at not become a casualty of the bloody struggle. If he had died alongside Théoden, Ếowyn wouldn't even know how to cope with the loss of her family.

More than anything else, she wanted this conflict to end. To her great happiness and relief, it finally did at the Black Gates a little over a week after Gondor had been saved from the forces of Mordor. Tomorrow, Aragorn was to be crowned king of Gondor and she would be there to attend his coronation. She had also started to develop strong feelings for the new steward of Gondor, Faramir. Thankfully, she saw he was returning the affections to her. Now, she was meant to be happy. The future was bright and appeared promising and prosperous with the defeat of Sauron. Middle Earth had fought long and hard for this peace and the victors were fully entitled to seize the good times that lied ahead.

However, bliss and peace of mind continued to elude the shieldmaiden. She felt as if a shadow was lingering above her, denying and depriving her of the relief she expected to be feeling. Ếowyn was not depressed or distressed but she had felt vexed and curious more than anything else. An unexplainable cold wind would send shivers down her spine and steal her breath away even when no drafts could get into whatever room she was in. Whenever she was completely alone for whatever reason, she felt that she was not truly on her own. It always felt as if someone was standing next to her as if they were a devoted guard. She had no clue what was the cause of this but she blamed it on the strange dreams she had been having ever since the deaths of Théoden and the Witch-king.

In these dreams, she kept seeing a man whom she had never seen or met before. He never seemed to radiate a wicked or threatening aura in her reveries but his appearance confused her and left her wondering just who he was. Always, he seemed to be smiling at her but he didn't utter a single word. His face was gentle and affable. His eyes reflected love which perplexed her. Ếowyn never felt threatened by him in her dreams but simultaneously, there appeared to be something amiss with this mysterious gentleman. The man also appeared to be in his older years, perhaps even a little older than her uncle.

Her mind had also been wandering back to the duel she had with the Witch-king. It was never out of her train of thought completely over these past weeks. Ếowyn almost found herself wishing that she could look back into his eyes as she ended his undead existence. A part of her wanted to see and relish the terror in him as she held his life in her hands. In the very ether of her soul, she had a feeling that if she was granted the luxury of looking into his eyes, they would not be reflecting desperation. Though he had no face, she had a feeling that he was not acting or feeling cowardly in his final moments. Rather, he accepted his fate and let it take over from there. Grudgingly and hatefully, she gave him some credit for that.

It was true that he was a wicked and wretched creature but he was also once a man before Sauron had bestowed his gift onto him. He had freely accepted the ring but he had no idea of the disastrous consequences and repercussions. As a result of his shortsightedness, he became ensnared by the devious demon and was moldeed into his hapless minion, whether he wanted it or not. Ếowyn had heard the tale of the rings of power bestowed onto Men, Elves and Dwarves and the subsequent creation of the Nazgûl. She felt some pity for those souls but she had felt none for the Witch-king. He had killed her uncle and she would never forget that. King Théoden was not going to be coming back either. One life could not be exchanged for another as much as she yearned to.

Ếowyn remained lost in her private thoughts and meditations as she sat on her bed, absentmindedly brushing her hair. Her gray eyes turned to her balcony, seeing her curtains billow lightly in a small breeze. The chill of the night air swept into her chambers and sent a shiver reverberating through her. She was just happy that she actually felt that she was alone and not being eyed. Perhaps tonight would be the night when she would finally be granted to have a dreamless slumber. Maybe Faramir would no longer look at her with concern in his eyes when he asked her why she seemed troubled or deep in thought.

Soundlessly, Ếowyn got up from her seat on her bed and walked over to a table where she placed her brush on. Across the room, she spotted a standing mirror. Slowly, she made her way over to the mirror, studying her features as she approached it. She had retired her armor and warrior's garb weeks earlier and now she wore the clothes of a lady of Rohan. Ếowyn halted just inches away from the reflective surface and stared into its depths. Now that the war was over, there was no need to take up arms and don her alias of Dernhelm any longer. She had proven her worth on the battlefield regardless of her gender. The young woman was more than ready to adapt to her new lifestyle and settle in comfortably for the rest of her days. It would be a dramatic transition but it was one that he was more than willing to accept and look forward to.

Resting her forehead against the flawless surface, Ếowyn shut her eyes for a few seconds before reopening them again. A yawn escaped from her mouth and her body began to heed the call of slumber. She was eagerly looking forward to the new day that would be emerging shortly. Tomorrow was going to be an eventful and momentous occasion where her friend and comrade, Aragorn, was to be crowned. At long last, Gondor would harbor a king once more…

A strong and powerful gust of wind then swelled up, tossing and jostling her curtains. The familiar sensation returned to haunt her once more as she felt her flesh chill. She gasped and spun around, turning her back onto the mirror. Her eyes flitted over to the balcony, suddenly feeling she was not alone.

"Who goes there?" Ếowyn raised her voice, making sure that she sounded confident and strong.

No one answered her question and she narrowed her eyes to try to see through the shifting curtains. When she did that, all Ếowyn could see were what seemed more like weathered, dark curtains that she had not noticed before. Dismissing it as a second set of curtains that she failed to see and blaming her tired mind for playing tricks on her, she turned on her heels and began to walk over to her bed.

"Lady Ếowyn."

Not another step was made. She thought her heart had skipped a few beats as soon as she heard that chilling voice say her name. It was far too familiar to her to ignore and treat as an illusion. Deep in her marrow, she felt that this was not some cruel joke that someone was trying to get away with and shame the memory of her deceased uncle. Ếowyn continued to remain frozen in her place, not knowing how to react to the presence standing on her balcony.

"Lady Ếowyn," the voice addressed her once more. "Will you please allow me to grace you with my presence?"

The second set of curtains on the outside began to move although the wind had died down. Very swiftly, she realized that these curtains were actually robes that someone was wearing. Disbelief had held her hostage and she was completely dumbfounded and aghast with what was unfolding. A dark figure was now standing on her balcony, and looking into her chambers…

Once more, his invisible eyes gazed upon her. All Ếowyn could manage to do was stare back at the unmistakable and daunting shape of the Witch-king of Angmar. He appeared to her exactly as he did a little over a month ago but there was a tiny difference in his current appearance to what he was during the battle. Unlike the last time they crossed paths, he had a more solid form thanks to his robes and armor whereas now, he was semitransparent and the Lady of Rohan could faintly see the outlines of buildings and cliff faces through his ethereal body. His clothes were still black in color but he had a bluish-white hue to him now. He had looked deathly earlier and now, he appeared to be even more so.

"You must pardon me for interrupting you but I have finally worked up the courage to confront you," he explained. "That and I wanted to give you peace during your period of lamentation for King Théoden."

She was not dreaming. This was no twisted trick or magical gimmick. The unearthly, heartless abomination she had slain in the Fields was indeed speaking to her and standing on her balcony. Ếowyn could muster no words from her mouth to reply to him. Fear crept in on her face as she was met with the possibility that his malicious spirit was returning to exact revenge on the woman who had killed him.

Once he saw the terror becoming prominent in her, the former Nazgûl sought to placate it. He did not want her to fear him. He did not come in the spirit of hostility and wrongdoing. The feelings he secretly bore for her in his heart urged him to comfort her. Despite the fact he had almost killed her and stole her family member away from her, the Witch-king did not wish for her to be uneasy in his presence.

"Ếowyn, please." With inaudible footsteps, he made his way closer to the astonished Rohan princess. "There are some things I would like to tell you. I beg you to listen to my words."

"How…" she at last managed to say something to him. With each step he took, she retreated with another step. "Merry and I..! We killed you!"

"Indeed you did and you both assured victory for you and your allies."

Hatred then filled her eyes, remembering that he did indeed have every intention to extinguish the life of the king she loved and regarded as a father figure. Her anger boiled within her body and Ếowyn felt as fierce as she had been on that battlefield. Ếowyn's hands balled into fists and her body became tense. Tears were on the edges of her eyelids, threatening to flow down her face.

"How dare you show your hideous and damned face in my presence!" she thundered. "Leave me be or I shall kill you yet again if I have to! I do not understand how you are still connected to this world when you should be trapped in the Void for eternity!"

"Calm yourself, princess," the Witch-king said. "I did not come here to slay you. I did not come here to avenge myself in any way. If I had wanted to do so, I would've done it by now."

Ếowyn's face paled and her jaw dropped when she suddenly realized something. She felt physically sick at the revelation and she wanted to disbelieve it.

"It was you…" she murmured. "You're the unseen presence I've felt! You've been hovering by my side for this time, making me feel that I am never alone!"

"Indeed, it was me," he nodded his helmeted head. "Ever since you showed your true nature to me, I've felt drawn to you, Ếowyn. I've gravitated around you for this time, observing you and admiring you. True, you had freed me from Sauron's bonds but I soon saw that I could not cross over into everlasting peace just yet. I was not granted my original body like I assumed I would when I had died and this is why you see me as the devil you first met."

What he was saying had left Ếowyn speechless and paralyzed. A part of her hoped it was Théoden's presence that she was feeling whom was attempting to console and comfort her from beyond death. Deep within her heart, she had a feeling the specter was telling the truth and it was he who was keeping watch over her. She felt horribly ill at the thought but she could barely react or retort to him.

"Ếowyn…" He took a step closer to her. His voice still retained that hollow undertone but he no longer sounded ominous and evil. More than anything else, he sounded calm and there was a hint of concern. "I implore you to hear me out one last time. Please, soothe yourself."

"Don't say my name..!" she choked out. "You aren't supposed to know it…"

Her mind raced wildly, suspecting that he was going to kill her. She wanted to cry out so that someone could help her but she didn't want to act cowardly. Besides, what could she or anyone else do to a phantom? Ếowyn held her ground, her eyes watering and wanting to strike him.

"Please." He sounded genuinely earnest. "I will leave you alone forevermore if you have one final audience with me, milady."

The warrior's blood in her veins urged her to discredit his words and attack him. Another part of Ếowyn attempted to reason with her. Since she was indeed truly at his mercy now that she was completely unarmed and he was even more invulnerable than he had been. There was also the chance he was telling the truth as wild and as unfathomable as she thought it was.

"You killed him…" she whispered. Her tears dripped down her cheeks.

"I know," the Witch-king said after a few seconds of silent contemplation. "It is a deed that I wish I had never committed, much like the multitude of other sins I have carried out through the years." More than anything else, he yearned to reach out and wipe her tears away with his fingers.

She was not expecting these words coming from the mouth of a freed Nazgûl. Ếowyn resolved to remain on guard but she would listen to what he would say. She had said nothing to him in return but her silence was enough to prompt him to continue on with whatever he needed her to hear.

"Firstly…" His iron headpiece suddenly seemed to become heavy on him as his head lowered. His posture slumped and it appeared that he was being weighted down by the mere act of recalling on his dark existence. "I wanted to thank you for slaying me. Before I had the greatest luck of meeting you, I had once scoffed hatefully at the thought of resting in peace and no longer serving Sauron. I arrogantly dismissed the possibility that one day, I would meet my end. But when your Hobbit friend had stabbed me with that enchanted Westernesse blade and severed the connection I had with my former master, I felt relief in that moment… I didn't understand it at first until you removed your helmet and thrust the sword into my face. At that moment, I saw that you were going to free me. I heartily and happily embraced this chance and I did not fight back. Because of your actions, I regained some portion of my mortal life. Slowly but surely, I have also been rediscovering my old memories of the days before I had been imprisoned by the power of the Ring. Some of them were beautiful and happy and others were sorrowful and dire. If you had not landed the finishing blow, I would still be a slave and ignorant of the peace I'm feeling now." He approached her but Ếowyn did not recoil. Her eyes widened slightly at his action but she did nothing else. The Witch-king took another step. Now he was a mere few inches away from her. "A man would not kill me but a woman in the guise of one would… I would have it no other way, Ếowyn. I mean every single word I say."

The Black Captain was met with silence instead of a fiery and defiant exclamation. He looked upon the face of the lady, seeing that she was still having a difficult time with accepting his presence and believing that what was occurring really was happening. Water still coursed from her reddening eyes but she paid no heed to that salty moisture. The pleasant feeling in his bosom flowed forth again and filled his being with warmth and serenity. If he was to stare at her visage for all of eternity, he would do it without rebellion or hesitation.

"I was a man once," he resumed. "I was once mortal but I was a king as well. I was not always this creature that you see now. Now that I had time to think and dwell on my experiences and regained memories since you had killed me, I am fully convinced that if I was given the chance to right my wrongs and never accept that ring, I would do it. I would smack it out of Sauron's hands and order him to leave my kingdom. I would resist him til the bitter and ugly end if I had to. Like a true, great, noble king of old, I would've fought and died rather than yield to him and his villainous wiles. Instead, I had given in to his temptations. I had good intentions in mind when I accepted his ring. I intended to make my domain stronger and more prosperous so that my people and my heirs would live in peace and comfort for millennia to come. Some of my fellow kings had the same desires and dreams as I had and they too accepted the rings. There were a few who had accepted the rings for more selfish purposes too but in the end, all nine of us kings of Men became alike. We ended up losing our thrones, our families, our lives and our humanity. We became equals in terms of soullessness and helplessness."

As much as she hated feeling pity for the Ringwraith who killed Théoden, Ếowyn felt her heart softening. It was just not in her nature to hate something or someone without reason but now she felt her justification for holding a grudge against him faltering. Though he had no face, she could sense sincerity and lament in his voice. It was becoming obvious to her that he was deeply regretting what he had done during his servitude and he hated himself for even sliding that ring onto his finger.

"I want to feel sorry for you and your comrades," she said softly. "But I cannot forgive and forget you what you have done."

The Witch-king merely nodded his head.

"I understand you completely, Lady Ếowyn," he said. "I have taken someone from you that you loved deeply. I am so very sorry that I…" For a few seconds, he fell silent in an attempt to control his emotions. She was already emotionally exhausted from being in his presence but he needed to tell her more. "I am sorry that I hurt you like that. I know you will never forgive me because of what I did and that is alright. I suppose it will be a punishment for my sins."

As soon as he uttered those words, Ếowyn believed her heart was to about to cease to beat. Instead, her pulse heightened and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her body became rigid and she felt afraid to even breathe.

"W-why?" she stammered. Ếowyn was not one to stumble over her words or stutter but she had done so in this particular scenario. For the moment, all her hatred that she bore to the Witch-king had fled and had replaced it with great intrigue and a hunger for answers. "Why do I fascinate you?! I killed you! Yet you watched over me for a month and now you're talking to me in my chambers! I don't understand this all..!"

The princess received no verbal answer. His head perked up ever so slightly and he brought his invisible face in closer to hers. The Witch-king lifted up one of his ghostly, armored hands. He flexed his fingers, looking at his hand before shifting his attention back to Ếowyn. After he did that, he brought his hand to her left cheek. Then he set it on her flesh. Tenderly, he rubbed her with his thumb, stroking her. Amazingly enough, he felt solid. Despite his condition, he was warm to the touch.

"Just before you stabbed me, I felt something bloom within my being and it centralized over where my heart once was," he revealed. "It felt unspeakably wonderful and fulfilling to feel a human emotion once again. As I died, I looked upon you with affection and alms…" His thumb continued to stroke her in an attempt to soothe her. "Forgive me, Ếowyn, for I have fallen in love with you… But I know that I cannot have you. I cannot hope for you to return the love to me either. This is also another punishment I must bear the burden of."

Right on the spot, she was ready to faint. She had a terrible suspicion of his true feelings when he set his hand on her face but it still came as a mighty and unexpected shock for her. The shieldmaiden's tears had not stopped flowing and her fear did not dissipate. In her mind, there was no way this thing she had killed could ever fall in love with her.

With great care that he had thought he lost long ago, he gingerly wiped her tears away. He was even more thankful he was no longer tied to the earthly realm because if he was touching her like this when he was still a Nazgûl, she would have probably been writhing on the floor in agony from the effects of the Black Breath. In this state, he could not harm her.

"I cannot help it," he continued to calm her. "It was your bravery, beauty and devotion that ensnared me from the moment you revealed yourself as a woman to me. You had released me from the insidious snares and saved me from perhaps many more years of darkness and insensitivity. Ếowyn…" The Witch-king lowered his hand and grasped one of hers. Gently, he squeezed it and clasped his other hand around it a few seconds later. "I liked to think that if perhaps we lived as mortals during the same time and at the same place, we possibly may have had a ghost of a chance. If we were both young and had not met one another under such bloody circumstances, I would've taken you if it pleased you. I would love you and marry you if you would take me in turn…Although I'm sure that even then, you probably would never have me. You are far too comely, pure and righteous to return even a shred of kindness to a wretch such as myself. You are simply too good for me. Maybe that is why we are so different; it is so that I cannot have you. Even if you did love me in turn through some unlikely chance, we would not get too far…"

Roughly, Ếowyn swallowed. Her heart was racing like a hare's feet across scorched earth. She wished for this to be a surreal and realistic dream but she knew this was not the case. This fallen and once great ruler was pouring his heart out to her and she could say nothing in return. She wanted to say something to him but nothing could come to her mind. All she could do was struggle to comprehend what he was saying. The truthfulness in his voice never wavered the entire time he spoke to her. He had wiped her tears away but they still insisted on running. For as long as she listened to him, the tears were no longer for her. Rather, they were now for him as she pitied him.

"The living and the dead are to be separated until their respective times have come," the veiled spirit reminded her. "Besides, I know that your heart is reserved for that young man of Gondor; Faramir. I also know he happily returns the love for you… I will not stand in the way of that. You deserve to be happy, Ếowyn. It was never meant for me to make you so as much as I wished it to be. I love you…" He gazed deeply into her gray orbs. Internally, he was mourning over this doomed and pointless love. "But you are not mine. You never will be… I already took someone from you and I will never do that again to you. I just wanted you to know this because it would help me be at peace and pass on. I also wanted to thank you for what you have done for me. I owe you so much, Ếowyn, but I will never be able to repay you. I am ashamed of that agonizing truth."

She needed to say something and not stand around, dumbfounded and shocked by his confessions. The princess was almost disgusted with herself for her lack of actions and words since this was not like her to be rendered so helpless and inactive. Ếowyn started to feel sympathetic towards the Witch-king despite her very recent and hateful view on him. This man was either a very good actor or he was speaking the truth and nothing but the truth. His admittance of falling in love with her was also something that shook her to her core. Why would he even say that if it was a lie? His demise was met by her very hand and he had every reason to hate her for depriving him of his immortal existence. There would be no reason for him to proclaim his love unless if he really did develop feelings for her.

"I do not know what to make of all this," she wet her lips and replied at last to him. "I am not afraid to tell you that I hated you with every fiber of my being and that stubborn bile still persists in me. I was aware of the legend of the Nazgûl before you told me of the sad and unfortunate tale of your metamorphosis but I thought nothing of your former humanity. When you had slain my uncle, I especially thought little of your past and all I saw was a vile and wicked creature spawned of Mordor. In my eyes, you were no better than an Orc." He was still so close to her and still held her hand but she was more focused on speaking rather than freeing herself. Oddly, she had not felt threatened and she felt secure in his presence. "Great king of old, I feel my heart becoming weighted for you. Since I feel that you have been telling nothing but truth to me, I shall repay the favor to you." Slightly, she stirred in his grip and he ever so gently loosened his hold on her. Yet Ếowyn did not pull away. "I do not love you in return. I never could nor would I be able to. If I were to for whatever reason, it would still take me a long while to come to terms for what you had done. I no longer feel as angry towards you as I did but you must understand this. I can only say that I am happy for you that you are no longer the favored pawn of the Dark Lord."

"To hear you say that you understand me is all I could hope for," he said. "I am flattered that you granted some mercy and pittance upon me. I also beg you to not feel sad for my tale. It was my fault. I accepted the ring and it sealed my fate. I also take no offense to you not feeling love for me. I knew that you would not return it. Faramir is the object of your affections. It is he whom your heart and soul yearns to deepen your connection with. He is yours as you are his and I wish you all the luck with him. I wish that your love will deepen enough that you will seek to consecrate it with matrimony. If that be the outcome, I wish you decades of peace, warmth, tenderness and many descendants. Tonight will be the last time we will meet on this earth and I do not know if we will even cross paths in death."

Disturbingly enough, the Witch-king vaguely reminded Ếowyn of herself. She too had once fallen in love with someone that she could not hope to have even though she dreamed of it. Like him, he knew her former desire would not return the love and that his heart had belonged to another woman. It was tough for the shieldmaiden to swallow and she had brooded over it for a little while before she had let it go. Luckily, she had met Faramir and Ếowyn was content with him. She looked forward to meeting this woman who had so enraptured Aragorn's heart and soul.

A part of her felt even more saddened for the Witch-king that he had fallen in love but she was unable to reciprocate. For a moment, she almost wished that some other woman had killed him so he could fall for her and she would grant him even more happiness in death. He had not felt love for countless years and now suddenly, he rediscovered it. No one else could share his joy.

"You must rest," she urged him. There was a stern gentleness in her voice. "For far too long, you have been running errands for Sauron. Now is your time to be at peace. Do you remember your old name at all?"

He scoffed lightly.

"Nay," he revealed. "Perhaps I will remember it one day. Right now, it still evades my memory even though other things made themselves known to me once more."

"Then I shall call you Milord," Ếowyn decided. "You were once a king after all."

"Whatever you come up with will suffice, Lady Ếowyn." At long last, he let go of her hand. "Now that I have talked to you, I feel complete. Right now, I believe I am ready to pass on and face whatever or whoever is awaiting me. I thank you for the final time, milady. I wish you a long life, joy and luck in the future. Farewell, Ếowyn, mighty, lovely and brave Lady of Rohan."

Before her very eyes, the armor and shrouds that he wore as a Nazgûl began to dissolve. Underneath those dark garbs, she began to see the shape of an aged yet regal man. The transformation lasted for a few seconds before she ended up recognizing him as the silent and friendly gentleman she had been seeing in her dreams. For the first time in so long, a mortal looked upon the true face of the former Witch-king of Angmar. A few more tears were shed but this time they were droplets of joy. Ếowyn had felt happy that he had been truly liberated of his unhallowed guise.

They gazed back at each other one last time. He then steadily evaporated before her very eyes, leaving behind the mortal and physical realm. Death had finally completely ferried him away, taking him to a warm and shining light where long lost and familiar faces of his past eagerly and happily awaited him…

* * *

**I was tempted to make him appear as a young man in her dreams and when he crosses over but I decided to stick with his portrayal in the beginning of "Fellowship of the Ring" as an older individual. It seemed too easy to have him turn young when he shed his Nazgul shape... Thanks for reading, hope you liked it!**


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